Twenties Girl (23 page)

“So, does anyone here work in marketing?” I ask casually. All eyes turn to a blond-haired man.

“Guilty.” He smiles.

“Would you like a new job?” I blurt out. “It’s at a sports-equipment company—great benefits, a really fab opportunity!”

There’s silence. I can’t breathe for hope. Then everyone bursts into laughter.

“I like your style,” says the red-haired guy, and turns to his neighbor. “Can I interest you in an Asian software subsidiary, only ten years on the clock?”

“One careful owner,” quips another guy, and there’s more laughter.

They think I’m joking. Of course they do.

I hastily join in the laughter too. But inside, I feel like a total moron. I’m never going to find a candidate. This was a ridiculous idea. After a little while I excuse myself and move away, to find Ed approaching me across the floor.

“How’s it going? Sorry to abandon you.”

“No worries. I was … you know. Networking.”

“We’re at table one.” He leads me toward the stage and I feel a flicker of pride, in spite of my low mood. Table 1 at the
Business People
dinner!

“Lara, I have a question,” says Ed as we walk. “Please don’t take this the wrong way.”

“I’m sure I won’t,” I say. “Fire ahead.”

“I just want to get something straight. You don’t want to be my girlfriend. Is that right?”

“That’s right.” I nod. “And you don’t want to be my boyfriend.”

“No,” he says, emphatically shaking his head. “Uh-uh.” We’ve arrived at the table by now. Ed folds his arms and surveys me as though mystified. “So what are we doing here together?”

“Er … well. Good question.”

I’m not sure how to answer. The truth is, there is no sane reason.

“Friends?” I suggest at last.

“Friends,” he echoes doubtfully. “I guess we could be friends.”

He pulls out my chair and I sit down. By every place is a program with
Guest Speaker: Ed Harrison
written across the bottom.

“Are you nervous?”

Ed’s eyes flicker, then he gives me a tiny smile. “If I were I wouldn’t say.”

I flick to the back of the program and feel a little kick when I find my own name in the list.
Lara Lington, L&N Executive Recruitment
.

“You don’t strike me as a typical headhunter,” says Ed, following my gaze.

“Really?” I’m not quite sure how to react. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

“You don’t seem obsessed with money, for a start.”

“I’d like to make more money,” I say honestly. “Lots more. But I suppose that isn’t the main point for me. I’ve always seen headhunting as a bit like—” I break off, embarrassed, and take a sip of wine.

I once told my headhunting theory to Natalie, and she said I was crazy and to shut up about it.

“What?”

“Well. Like matchmaking. Matching the perfect person with the perfect job.”

Ed looks amused. “That’s a different way of looking at it. I’m not sure most people around here would say they were having a love affair with their jobs.” He gestures around the crowded room.

“Maybe they would if it was the right job, though,” I say eagerly. “If you could just match people up with exactly what they want…”

“And you’d be Cupid.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not.” He shakes his head firmly. “I like it as a theory. How does it work in practice?”

I sigh. There’s something about Ed that makes me lower my guard. Maybe it’s because I honestly don’t care what he thinks of me.

“Not great. In fact, right now, pretty shit.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Even worse.” I take another drink of my wine, then look up to see Ed watching me quizzically.

“You’re in a partnership, right?”

“Yes.”

“So … how did you decide who to go into partnership with?” he says lightly. “How did that all happen?”

“Natalie?” I shrug. “Because she’s my best friend and I’ve known her forever and she’s a very talented top headhunter. She used to work for Price Bedford Associates, you know. They’re huge.”

“I know.” He seems to think for a moment. “Out of interest, who told you she was a very talented top headhunter?”

I stare at him, feeling slightly wrong-footed. “No one had to
tell
me. She just
is
. I mean …” I meet his skeptical gaze. “What?”

“It’s none of my business. But when you and I first…” Again he hesitates, as though searching for the word. “Met.”

“Yes.” I nod impatiently.

“I did a little asking around. Nobody had even heard of you.”

“Great.” I take a slug of champagne. “There you go.”

“But I have a contact at Price Bedford, and he told me a little about Natalie. Interesting.”

I feel a sudden foreboding at his expression. “Oh, really?” I say defensively. “Because I bet they were pissed off to lose her. So whatever he said—”

Ed lifts his hands. “I don’t want to get into this. It’s your partnership, your friend, your choices.”

OK. Now I have a bad feeling.

“Tell me.” I put my glass down, all my bravado gone. “Please, Ed. Tell me. What did he say?”

“Well.” Ed shrugs. “The story went that she lured a number of high-profile people onto a list for some anonymous ‘blue-chip job’ that didn’t exist. Then she tried to offer them up to some less-than-blue-chip client and claim this was the job she’d meant all along. The shit hit the fan, big-time. The senior partner at her
firm had to step in, calm things down. That’s why she was fired.” Ed hesitates. “But you knew this, right?”

I stare at him, speechless. Natalie was fired? She was
fired
?

She told me she’d decided to quit Price Bedford because she was undervalued and she could make far more money working for herself.

“Is she here tonight?” He’s looking around the room. “Will I meet her?”

“No.” I eventually manage to find my voice. “She’s … not around at the moment.”

I can’t tell him she’s left me in the lurch to run the company all by myself. I can’t admit that it’s even worse than he thinks. Blood is ebbing in and out of my face as I try to process all this.

She never told me she’d been fired. Never. I can still remember her first pitching the idea of our company to me, over champagne at some fancy bar. She told me everyone in the industry was dying to set up with her, but she wanted to link up with someone she really trusted. An old friend. Someone she could have
fun
with. She painted such an amazing picture and dropped so many big names, I was bowled over. I quit my job the next week and took out all my savings. I’m such a gullible
… idiot
. I feel tears trembling on the brink of my lashes and quickly take a gulp of champagne.

“Lara?” Sadie’s shrill voice comes in my ear. “Lara, come quick! I need to talk to you.”

I really don’t feel like talking to Sadie. But nor can I keep sitting here with Ed looking at me with so much concern. I think he’s guessed this is all a total shock to me.

“I’ll be back in a second!” I say overbrightly, and push my chair back. I head across the crowded room, trying to ignore Sadie, who’s pursuing me, jabbering in my ear.

“I’m very sorry,” she’s saying. “I thought about it and you’re right, I was selfish and thoughtless. So I decided to help you, and I have! I’ve found you a candidate! A wonderful, perfect candidate!”
Her words interrupt my painful, circular thought pattern.

“What?” I turn. “What did you say?”

“You may think I’m not interested in your work, but I am,” she announces. “You need a trophy, and I’ve found you one. Aren’t I clever?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve been listening in on everyone’s conversations!” she says proudly. “I was starting to think it was hopeless, but then I heard a woman called Clare whispering to her friend in a corner. She’s not happy. It’s the power games, you know.” Sadie opens her eyes at me impressively. “Things are getting so bad at her place, she’s thinking of quitting.”

“Right. So the point is—”

“She’s a head of marketing, of course!” Sadie says triumphantly. “It was on her badge. I knew that’s what you wanted, a head of marketing. She won an award last month, you know. But her new ‘chief exec’ didn’t even congratulate her. He’s a total pig,” she adds confidingly. “That’s why she wants to leave.”

I swallow several times, trying to stay calm. A marketing head who wants to move jobs. An award-winning marketing head who wants to move jobs. Oh God. I would die and go to heaven.

“Sadie … is this for real?”

“Of course! She’s over there!” Sadie gestures at the other side of the room.

“Is she into sports? Exercise?”

“Brawny calves,” says Sadie. “I noticed them at once.”

I hurry to a nearby board and look through the list of guests. Clare … Clare…

“Clare Fortescue, marketing director of Shepherd Homes?” I feel a jab of excitement. “She was on my new long list! I wanted to talk to her, but I couldn’t get through!”

“Well, she’s here! Come on, I’ll show her to you!”

My heart is thumping as I cross the crowded room, searching all the faces for someone looking like a Clare.

“There!” Sadie is pointing at a woman with glasses in a royal blue dress. She has cropped dark hair, a mole on her nose, and is on the short side. I probably wouldn’t even have spotted her if Sadie hadn’t pointed her out to me.

“Hi!” I walk up to her and take a deep breath. “Clare Fortescue?”

“Yes?” she says briskly.

“May I have a quick word?”

“Well… OK.” Looking a bit puzzled, Clare Fortescue allows me to draw her away from the group she’s in.

“Hi.” I give her a nervous smile. “My name’s Lara, and I’m a recruitment consultant. I’ve been meaning to make contact with you. Your reputation has spread, you know.”

“Really?” She looks suspicious.

“Of course! In fact … I must congratulate you on your recent award!”

“Oh.” A pink tinge comes to Clare Fortescue’s ears. “Thanks very much.”

“I’m recruiting for a marketing director position right now”—I lower my voice discreetly—“and I just wanted to mention it. It’s a really exciting sportswear company with massive potential, and I think you’d be perfect. You’d be my number-one pick.” I pause, then add lightly, “But, of course, you may be very happy where you are right now. …”

There’s silence. I can’t tell what’s going on behind Clare Fortescue’s glasses. My whole body is so tense, I can’t even breathe.

“Actually … I have been thinking about a move,” she says at last, so quietly I can barely hear. “I might very well be interested. But it would have to be the right situation.” She gives me a bulletlike look. “I’m not compromising myself. I have standards.”

Somehow I manage not to whoop. She’s interested and she’s tough!

“Great!” I smile. “Maybe I can call you in the morning. Or if
you had a few minutes to spare right now?” I try not to sound desperate. “We could have a chat? Just quickly?”

Please … please … please please please…

Ten minutes later I walk back to the table, giddy with joy. She’s going to send me her résumé tomorrow. She used to play right wing in hockey! She’s a perfect match!

Sadie seems even more thrilled than I am as we head back to the table.

“I knew it!” she keeps saying. “I knew she’d be right!”

“You’re a star,” I say joyfully. “We’re a team. High-five!”

“High what?” Sadie looks perplexed.

“High-five! Don’t you know what a high-five is? Hold up your hand. …”

OK. It turns out high-fiving a ghost is a mistake. That woman in red thought I was trying to hit her. Hastily, I resume walking. I arrive at the table and beam at Ed. “I’m back!”

“So you are.” He gives me a quizzical look. “How’s it going?”

“Brilliantly, since you ask.”

“Brilliantly!” echoes Sadie, and jumps into his lap. I reach for my champagne glass. Suddenly I’m in the mood for a party.

SIXTEEN

onight is turning out to be one of the best evenings of my life. The dinner is delicious. Ed’s speech goes down fantastically. Afterward, people keep coming over to congratulate him, and he introduces me to everyone. I’ve given out all my business cards and set up two meetings for next week, and Clare Fortescue’s friend has just come over to ask discreetly if there’s anything I can do for
her
.

I’m euphoric. Finally I feel like I’m getting myself on the map!

The only slight pain is Sadie, who’s got bored by business talk and has started on about dancing again. She’s been out exploring, and according to her there’s some tiny nightclub down the street which is perfect and we
have
to go there immediately.

“No!” I mutter, as she pesters me yet again. “Shh! The magician’s doing another trick!”

As we all sip our coffee, a magician is doing the rounds of the tables. He’s just pushed a bottle of wine through the table, which
was quite amazing. Now he’s asking Ed to choose a shape on a card and saying he’ll mind read it.

“OK,” says Ed, choosing a card. I glance over his shoulder, and it shows a squiggle shape. It was between the squiggle, a square, a triangle, a circle, or a flower.

“Focus on the shape and nothing else.” The magician, who is wearing a jeweled jacket, fake tan, and eyeliner, fixes his gaze firmly on Ed. “Let The Great Firenzo use his mysterious powers and read your mind.”

The magician’s name is The Great Firenzo. He’s mentioned this fact about ninety-five times; plus, all his props have
The Great Firenzo
written on them in big swirly red writing.

There’s a hush around the table. The Great Firenzo takes both hands up to his head, as though in a trance.

“I am communing with your mind,” he says, his voice low and mysterious. “The message is coming in. You have chosen … this shape!” With a flourish, he produces a card which exactly matches Ed’s.

“Correct.” Ed nods and shows his card to the table.

“Amazing!” gasps a blond woman opposite.

“Pretty impressive.” Ed is turning his own card over, examining it. “There’s no way he could have seen what I picked.”

“It’s the power of the mind,” intones the magician, swiftly collecting the card from Ed. “It’s the power of … The Great Firenzo!”

“Do it to me!” begs the blond woman excitedly. “Read my mind!”

“Very well.” The Great Firenzo turns to face her. “But beware. When you open your mind to me, I can read all your secrets. Every deepest, darkest one.” His eyes flash and she giggles.

She totally fancies The Great Firenzo, it’s obvious. She’s probably beaming her deepest, darkest secrets at him right now.

“I find the ladies’ minds are often easier to
… penetrate.”
The Great Firenzo raises an eyebrow suggestively. “They are
weaker, softer … but more delightful within.” He grins toothily at the blond woman, who gives an embarrassed laugh.

Ugh. He’s revolting. I glance at Ed, who has an expression of distaste on his face.

We all watch as the blond woman picks a card, studies it for a moment, then says decidedly, “I’ve chosen.”

“It’s the triangle,” says Sadie, with interest. She’s bobbing behind the back of the blond woman, looking down at the card. “I thought she’d choose the flower.”

“Relax.” The Great Firenzo is focusing intently on the blond woman. “Years of study in the East have made me attuned to the thought waves of the human mind. Only The Great Firenzo can penetrate the brain to such a degree. Do not resist, sweet lady. Let Firenzo probe your thoughts. I promise …” He gives the toothy smile again. “I’ll be gentle.”

Eeuuww. He thinks he’s so hot, but he’s a total sleazeball. and sexist.

“Only The Great Firenzo has such powers,” he says dramatically, looking around the table at us all. “Only The Great Firenzo can achieve such a feat. Only The Great Firenzo can—”

“Actually, I can too,” I say brightly. I’ll show
him
who’s got a weaker mind.

“What?” The Great Firenzo shoots me a look of dislike.

“I can commune with the mind too. I know what card she chose.”

“Please, young lady.” The Great Firenzo gives me a savage smile. “Do not interrupt the work of The Great Firenzo.”

“I’m just saying.” I shrug. “I know what it is.”

“No, you don’t,” says the blond woman, a little aggressively. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re spoiling it for everyone. Has she had too much to drink?” She turns to Ed.

What a nerve.

“I do know!” I say indignantly. “I’ll draw it if you like. Does anyone have a pen?” A nearby man holds out a pen, and I start drawing on my napkin.

“Lara,” says Ed in a low voice. “What exactly are you doing?”

“Magic,” I say confidently. I finish my triangle and thrust the napkin at the blond woman. “Is that right?”

The blond woman’s jaw drops. She looks incredulously at me, then down at the napkin again.

“She’s right.” She turns her card over and there’s a gasp around the table. “How did you do that?”

“I told you, I can do magic. I, too, have mysterious powers granted to me from the East. They call me The Great Lara.” I catch Sadie’s eye and she smirks.

“Are you a member of the Magic Circle?” The Great Firenzo looks livid. “Because our protocol states—”

“I’m not in any circle,” I say in a pleasant tone. “But my mind’s pretty strong, I think you’ll find. For a lady.”

The Great Firenzo looks totally put out and starts gathering his props.

I glance over at Ed, who raises his dark eyebrows. “Very impressive. How d’you do that?”

“Magic.” I shrug innocently. “I told you.”

“The Great Lara, huh?”

“Yes. That’s what my disciples call me. But you can call me Greatie for short.”

“Greatie.” His mouth is twitching, and I see a smile pop out at one corner. A real, genuine smile.

“Oh my God!” I point at him in triumph. “You smiled! Mr. American Frown actually smiled!”

Oops. Maybe I
have
had too much to drink. I didn’t mean to call him Mr. American Frown out loud. For an instant Ed looks a bit taken aback—then he shrugs, as deadpan as ever.

“Must have been a mistake. I’ll speak to someone about it. Won’t happen again.”

“Well, good. Because you could do your face an injury, just
smiling
like that.”

Ed doesn’t reply, and for a moment I wonder whether I’ve gone too far. He does seem quite sweet. I don’t want to offend him.

Suddenly I hear a pompous-looking guy in a white tuxedo holding forth to his friend. “It’s simply a balance of probabilities, nothing more. Any one of us could work out the likelihood of picking the triangle, with a bit of practice—”

“No, you couldn’t!” I interrupt him indignantly. “OK, I’ll do another trick. Write down anything. Anything. Like, a shape, a name, a number. I’ll read your mind and tell you what you wrote.”

“Very well.” The man gives a little raised-eyebrows smile around the table, as though to say, “I’ll indulge her,” and takes a pen out of his pocket. “I’ll use my napkin.”

He lowers his napkin onto his lap so it’s completely out of view. I glance meaningfully at Sadie, who immediately hovers behind his back and leans forward to watch.

“He’s writing down …
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.”
She makes a face. “Dreadful handwriting.”

“All right.” The pompous man looks up. “Tell me what shape I’ve drawn.”

Oh, very sneaky.

I smile sweetly back and lift my hands toward him, just like The Great Firenzo did.

“The Great Lara will now read your mind. A shape, you say. Hmm … What shape could it be? Circle … square … I’m getting a square. …”

The pompous man is exchanging smug smiles with the guy next to him. He thinks he’s so clever.

“Open your mind, sir!” I shake my head reproachfully at him. “Get rid of those thoughts saying
I’m better than everyone at this table!
They’re blocking me!”

The man’s face has turned red.

“Really—” he begins.

“I have it.” I cut him off firmly. “I have read your mind, and you did not draw a shape. No one can fool The Great Lara. On your napkin is written …” I pause, wishing I had a drum roll.
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
. Show the table your napkin, please.”

Ha! The pompous man looks like he swallowed a fish. Slowly, he holds up the napkin, and there’s a massive gasp, followed by applause.

“Fucking hell,” says his neighbor bluntly. “How did you do that?” He appeals to the table. “There’s no way she could have known that.”

“It’s a trick,” the pompous man is saying, but he’s sounding less convinced.

“Do it again! Do it to someone else!” A man opposite is beckoning to the next table. “Hey, Neil, you have to see this. What’s your name again?”

“Lara,” I say proudly. “Lara Lington.”

“Where did you train?” The Great Firenzo is by my side, breathing heavily as he murmurs in my ear. “Who taught you that?”

“No one,” I say. “I told you, I have special powers.
Female
powers,” I can’t help adding. “Which means they’re especially strong.”

“Fine,” he snaps. “Forget it. I’m speaking to the union about you.”

“Lara, let’s go.” Sadie has appeared on my other side and is stroking Ed’s chest with her hand. “I want to dance. Come on!”

“Just do a few more tricks,” I mutter under my breath as guests start gathering around the table to watch. “Look at all these people! I can talk to them, give out my cards, make a few contacts—”

“I don’t care about your contacts!” She pouts. “I want to shake my booty!”

“A couple more.” I speak sidelong under camouflage of my wineglass. “Then we’ll go. Promise.”

• • •

But I’m in such demand that before I know it, nearly an hour has whizzed by. Everyone wants to have their mind read. Everyone in the room knows my name! The Great Firenzo has packed up and gone. I feel a bit bad about him, but then, he shouldn’t have been so obnoxious, should he?

Several tables have been pushed aside, chairs have been dragged forward, and an audience has assembled. By now I’ve refined my act so that I go off into a little side room, and the person writes down whatever it is and shows the whole audience. Then I come back in and guess. So far I’ve had names, dates, Bible verses, and a drawing of Homer Simpson. (Sadie described it to me. Luckily I got it.)

“And now.” I look impressively around the little crowd. “The Great Lara will perform a yet more astounding feat. I will read … five minds at once!”

There’s a satisfying gasp and spatter of applause.

“Me!” A girl rushes forward. “Me!”

“And me!” Another girl is scrambling over the chairs.

“Sit on that chair.” I gesture with a flourish. “The Great Lara will now retire and then return to read your mind!”

There’s a round of applause and a few cheers, and I beam modestly. I head off into the side room and take a swig of water. My face is glowing and I’m totally wired. This is fantastic! We should do it full-time!

“All right,” I say as soon as the door closes. “We’ll do them in order; it should be quite easy—” I break off in surprise. Sadie has planted herself right in front of me.

“When are we going to leave?” she demands. “I want to dance. This is
my
date.”

“I know.” I’m redoing my lip gloss quickly. “And we will.”

“When?”

“Sadie, come on. This is so much fun. Everyone’s having a brilliant time. You can dance anytime!”

“I can’t dance anytime!” Her voice rises in fury. “Who’s being selfish now? I
want to go! Now!”

“We will! I promise. One more trick—”

“No! I’ve had enough of helping you! You’re on your own.”

“Sa—” I stop dead as she disappears before my eyes. “Sadie, don’t joke.” I wheel around, but there’s no answer or sight of her. “OK, very funny. Come back.”

Great. She’s in a huff.

“Sadie.” I adopt a humbler tone. “I’m sorry. I can understand you’re annoyed. Please come back and let’s talk about it.”

There’s no response. The little room is dead. I look around, feeling a bit more alarmed.

She can’t have gone.

I mean, she can’t have just
left
me.

I jump as there’s a knock at the door and Ed comes in. Ed’s turned into my unofficial assistant. He’s been marshaling the requests and handing out pens and paper.

“Five minds at once, huh?” he says as he enters.

“Oh.” I hastily plaster on a smile. “Er … yes! Why not?”

“There’s quite a crowd out there. All the people who were in the bar have come in to watch. Standing room only.” He gestures at the door. “Ready?”

“No!” Instinctively I back away. “I mean, I might take a moment first. I need to get my head straight. Have a breather.”

“I’m not surprised. Must take a lot of concentration.” Ed leans against the door frame and surveys me for a moment. “I’ve been watching you as hard as I can, but I still can’t figure it out. However you do it… it’s awesome.”

“Oh. Er … thanks.”

“See you out there.” The door closes behind Ed, and I wheel around.

“Sadie,” I call desperately. “Sadie!
Sadie!”